In The Night Air
by alyseci5
Summary: The sun was setting now, turning the horizon into a palette of gold, purple, and green smudges that glowed against the rich blue of the sky like banked embers.  Abigail/King


**Fandom:** Blade: Trinity

**Pairing:** Abigail Whistler/Hannibal King

**Warnings/Spoilers:** No warnings. Set pre movie

**Genres:** Established relationship

**Disclaimer:** Blade: Trinity, the motion picture, is owned by New Line Cinema. This is a not for profit fanfiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks to Aithine for beta reading duties. Any mistakes remaining are my own. Title and quote from 'Night Air' by Jamie Woon. Written for my **kissbingo** card square 'location: sunset'.

-o-

_Night air has the strangest flavour  
>Space to breathe it, time to savour<em>

-o-

The evening sun woke Abigail, shining straight through the window and falling onto her face. The curtains were open, as they always were - she preferred to have a clear view of her surroundings, but even without that incentive, the view in her room opened out over the river, facing towards where the sun set towards the west, and something about it just spoke to her, which was why she'd chosen this room in the first place. She didn't feel the need to shut the day out, not when she spent most of her waking hours in the dark with the other Night Stalkers.

The sun was setting now, turning the horizon into a palette of gold, purple, and green smudges that glowed against the rich blue of the sky like banked embers. For a moment it seemed as though the river itself had caught fire; even the bare, concrete docks on the far side of the wide river glimmered beautifully in evening light, all of their daytime squalor leached away.

Abby blinked her eyes, stretching slightly; when she glanced at the battered travel alarm clock by her bedside, it showed she still had thirty minutes or so before she needed to get up, and King was a warm, solid weight against her back. He'd thrown his arm over her while they both slept, and she could feel his breath against the bare skin of her shoulder, an even rise and fall that told her that he, at least, was still lost in slumber.

It was warm there, curled up in her blankets with him, and she didn't want to move, not when the feeling trickling through her limbs felt as close to contentment as she could ever remember being. She settled back down, her eyes half-closed as she stared out over the water, letting herself have a rare, luxurious moment of just drifting.

King stirred behind her, his arm tightening around her fractionally and his beard scratching against her skin as he rubbed his face against her. "Mmm," he murmured, all sleepy and content sounding. "Hey."

She pushed gently back into his embrace, wanting to stretch the moment out for as long as she could. In a minute or two, he'd be fully awake, and then all of his smartass defences would be in place; as much as she'd grown to appreciate his off-beat sense of humour and inspired ways of stringing expletives together, it was nice to enjoy the quiet for once.

"Time is it?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep. He pushed against her, a mindless little rock of his hips that told her that he still hadn't fully joined her in consciousness; the movement pressed his morning - or evening - wood into her. She smiled out over the water, tangling her fingers with those on the hand he still had draped over her.

"Early," she said. "Late."

"Mmm," he said again, pressing an absent, sleepy kiss against her shoulder. "'S helpful."

"We've got about thirty minutes, forty-five tops maybe, before Hedges sets off the sirens and tells us to get our lazy butts out of bed."

"'Kay." He pressed another soft kiss against her skin, more like a brush of his lips than anything focused. "M'butt's not lazy. It's a fine butt. The kind of butt Hedges only wishes he had."

She laughed, a low sound that shook through her, and she could feel him smiling against her shoulder as he pulled her closer, managing to turn the move into both a hug and a stretch on his part. She turned her head towards him and met his eyes, which were sleepy and satisfied. "Morning," he said.

"Evening," she returned.

"Whatever. You gonna close those curtains anytime soon?"

She turned back towards the river, settling back into his embrace; he didn't pull away, but wrapped his arms tightly around her. "No. No one's going to see your butt, King."

He huffed against the back of her neck and managed, somehow, to poke her without actually letting go of her, and for once it wasn't with his erection. "Funny girl. You should sell tickets, though. Make a fortune." And then he yawned, hot and damp against her skin. "Just shut the curtains, babe, 'kay? Light's too bright."

"The sun's going down." She shuffled deeper into the pillow, which pushed her more firmly into his personal space, but then it was her bed and he'd just have to learn to deal with it. He shifted position with her, his head coming to rest against her back, his cheek against her skin. She could see the vague outline of his reflection in the window, and feel the warmth of his breath against her. It shouldn't have been as comfortable as it was. "It'll be dark soon, so quit bitching."

"Huh." He lifted his head for a moment, and she was already missing the weight of him before he let it drop again, burrowing into her side. "Red sky at night, right? What's that again?"

"It's purple," she said quietly, ignoring the chuckle he let out as it spilled across her skin. "And it's beautiful."

"I'm sure you think so, but it's also in my face." They'd reached the grumpy portion of the evening, it seemed, King rolling away from her and already pulling on his mental armour the way he pulled on his Kevlar.

She sighed, missing his touch already. "Don't you have any romance in your soul?"

"Honestly?" he asked, settling on his side next to her; she felt the bed dip under his weight as he moved around. Normally she'd twist around to look at him, but she was busy enjoying the view out on the river; she wasn't going to be distracted by the view sprawled out in bed next to her, no matter how pretty it was. "No."

"I can't think of a more beautiful sight to wake up to than that." And if her voice was a little dreamy, he'd just have to deal with it. She could always claim she was still half-asleep herself.

"I can." His voice was soft; when she finally turned her head to look at him, blinking the lingering ghost of the sun out of her eyes, he was looking straight at her and his expression was soft, too.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "No romance in your soul, huh?"

"Nope." He shook his head, the faint trace of a smile hidden in the creases at the side of his mouth. "None at all. Had it all ripped out of me, every last bit."

"You are so full of crap."

"And I see that you've also undergone a romancectomy."

She snorted, rolling over to face him straight on. His skin was glowing, soft and warm in the low evening light; it caught in his eyes, flecks of gold in amongst the brown. She knew which view she preferred, not that she'd ever admit it and certainly not to King.

"Hey," she said instead, reaching out to run her fingers gently down his chest, brushing over the soft hairs that grew there.

"Hey, yourself," he said, and his smile was as warm as the setting sun, at least until he waggled his eyebrows at her and it turned into something both more familiar and more salacious. "How long before Hedges comes a-knocking?"

She turned her head to look at the clock. "'Bout twenty-five minutes, maybe thirty if we're lucky." When she turned back, his expression had grown even more wicked, and she returned his smile with interest. "Think that's enough time for what you've got in mind?" she asked as her fingers dipped lower.

"And what do I have in mind?" She didn't answer, contenting herself with a look that spoke volumes and fingers that strayed even further south. "Okay, apparently I have that in mind, or you do, which amounts to the same thing. So... if you want to fool around, that would still leave us, what? Twenty minutes for a shower?"

She laughed, low and dirty, pushing herself against him. He met her halfway, his arms going around her, strong and sure; his kiss was warm and welcome, like coming home, and she sank into him, losing herself for long moments in the feel of his body against hers, the heat of his kisses that started slowly and then burned, bright and fierce.

"Twenty minutes for a shower?" she murmured against his mouth, wanting and breathless, her hips now moving restlessly against his. "Really?"

His lips curled up in a smile. "Okay," he said, as easy as always when it came to the promise of sex. He kissed her again, hard and deep, his fingers stroking down her spine and setting her nerve endings on fire. And then he switched to small, scattered touches that gradually moved from her lips and down her neck, sending little shivers of pleasure through her, sparks of colour behind her eyelids. "How about we compromise - ten minutes for the shower and we share?"

That worked for Abigail. If it came to it, Hedges would just have to wait.

The end


End file.
